


A Collection of Random Artemis and Jarlaxle Ficlets

by sno4wy



Category: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2018-04-30 06:18:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5153378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sno4wy/pseuds/sno4wy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title is self-explanatory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Blush as Red as a Rose

**Author's Note:**

> Just a series of crack ficlets made for the sole purpose of instilling within the reader feelings of confusion and bewilderment that can most accurately be described as "WTF". :P I hope that some of you are able to derive some kind of amusement from them, the sort of enjoyment as one would derive from watching a terrible movie that was so bad that it's actually strangely good.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artemis falls in love with a plant.

One day, Artemis Entreri happened upon a beautiful plant. Its luscious green leaves, gracefully arcing stems and brilliantly-colored blossoms stole his heart completely. The assassin fell thoroughly in love with it.

Jarlaxle was rather sad about this development. However, as the drow cared deeply about his human friend’s happiness, he secretly had all sorts of beneficial spells cast upon the plant, ranging from protective ones to ones that enhanced the plant’s growth. Additionally, the mercenary replaced the normal fertilizer that Artemis was feeding to the plant with the most premier fertilizer that any man, elf, dwarf, dragon, ooze or any manner of beasties above or below the surface of Faerûn could get his/her/their/its appendages upon.

Artemis was quite happy with tending to his beloved plant. He greatly enjoyed watering it, pruning it and watching it flourish. Under his attentions (with Jarlaxle’s hidden assistance), the plant grew huge, its primary stem becoming a trunk and the offshoots becoming branches. However, the smitten man was also growing weak. The ever-perceptive Jarlaxle noticed his friend’s deterioration right away, but when he brought it to Artemis’ attention, the assassin would dismiss it as his spending too much time doting on his plant and not enough time sleeping. However, the world-wise mercenary knew better, and after some investigation, he discovered that Artemis was allergic to the plant. As much as he loathed taking away the source of so some much joy for his dear friend, the drow felt beholden to ensure the human’s well-being.

One day, when Artemis left the plant’s side, Jarlaxle had his agents thoroughly destroy it. His minions hacked the plant apart, sundering the trunks, ripping the leaves and tearing apart the flowers. They then proceeded to set the pieces on fire. However, Artemis, never away from that which he loved most for too long, returned before its murder was complete, and grew enraged at Jarlaxle. He drove the mercenary leader and his underlings away, then was left alone with the remains of his beloved.

Artemis spent many hours kneeling in the charred remnants of the once-glorious plant, breathing in the air that was laden with its ash. His grief was absolute. Swearing revenge, the assassin picked up the largest piece of what was left of the hacked-apart trunk and fashioned a pointed stick from it. He knew that Jarlaxle, though prepared for every imaginable great danger, suffered from the flaw of not preparing himself against small dangers. After all, he needed not be, for any whom would dare engage the skilled drow in combat would surely bring only the sharpest blades and the most potent of magicks. Surely no one would be so foolish as to pick a fight with Jarlaxle wielding nothing but a pointy stick.

However, attacking Jarlaxle with nothing but a pointy stick, one fashioned from the remains of his beloved plant, was exactly what Artemis Entreri did. Unfortunately, his body had weakened even further, his allergy ravaging his health and sapping all of his strength. Before he could so much as thrust his pointy stick at the mercenary, the assassin fell, collapsing at his opponent’s feet and drew his last breaths. His weapon clattered free of his limp fingertips. The drow let out an anguished cry and fell to his knees next to the corpse of his dear friend. Seizing the pointy stick, Jarlaxle drove it into his own heart, completing the task that Artemis had set out to perform, whilst the unknowing assassin’s cheeks flushed virulently red, the plant’s poison creating the response that the man would never have expressed.

The End.


	2. Everlasting Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jarlaxle's up to something again, but Artemis is having none of it.

Jarlaxle was up and about making sure that the day went according to his plans, which is to say, he was having one of his usual days. He got bored, and decided to go visit his friend, Artemis Entreri. He found Entreri in a bar, looking as dour as usual. Jarlaxle rented a private room in the bar, and asked Entreri to join him there. Entreri was suspicious about this, so Jarlaxle told him that he had something of great importance to discuss, so Entreri begrudgingly agreed.

"Once in the room, Jarlaxle excused himself to retrieve some drinks from downstairs that he had ordered. Down at the bar, he poured two goblets of wine. Into one of the goblets he emptied a phial of red substance. He then emptied another phial of green substance into that same goblet. Picking up the two goblets, he returned to the room.

"Jarlaxle found Entreri sitting in a chair cutting his nails with a knife, his expression a picture of boredom and irritation. ‘Oh, I’m sorry your highness, did I keep you waiting long?’ Jarlaxle asked, to which Entreri replied with only a sneer. Jarlaxle set Entreri’s goblet of wine before the assassin and lifted his own. 'I propose a toast,’ Jarlaxle said, 'To our friendship.’ Entreri took up his goblet, lifted it, and poured its contents all over the floor.

"The End.


	3. Easter Fool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Easter coincided with April Fool's Day this year, I wrote this crack ficlet to commemorate it. Neither holiday is actually celebrated in the Forgotten Realms.

One morning, Artemis Entreri found a basket of egg-shaped objects wrapped in thin parchment that had been dyed bright purple. Even without looking at the note hanging from the matching ribbons decorating the basket, Entreri knew that the spectacle must be the work of Jarlaxle.

The assassin was in a good mood this day and therefore bothered to glance at the note long enough to register that it implored him to try this gift, while also advising that he could return it if he didn’t find it to his liking. The address where the sender could be found was included underneath his extravagant signature.

The note reassured Entreri enough for him to allow his curiosity to surpass his mistrust. He unwrapped one of the objects to find a dark brown egg. Its pleasantly rich scent tugged the corners of his lips upward. This was a substance that he enjoyed, but not one that he indulged in.

Basket hanging from one hand, Entreri pictured the location described by the address as he bit off a piece of the confectionery. It wasn’t too far, and he could ask Jarlaxle about the occasion for the gift, even though he knew that the drow who was prone to excess hardly needed one. However, as he chewed, the flavor began to change, farther and farther away from the taste of intense cacao tinged with sweetness. His expression was first bewildered, but quickly turned to disgust and anger. The basket landed on the floor with with a dull “thud” as Entreri spat, gagged, wiped his mouth, and spat again. A blastwave comprised entirely of a small angry assassin man blew out the apartment’s only window, scattering glass in the direction of the nearest well.

Less than a bell later, in a different and infinitely more extravagant apartment, a human quivering with anger pinned a drow against the wall with a jeweled dagger against the ebony throat. The drow was patting the air and delivering entreaties through a disarming smile, however his explanations of the many fascinating uses of prestidigitation magic and his jokes about the nostalgia values of simpler times provided by sewerage substances for his friend only drew the blade’s sharp edge closer against his skin.

Long after the sun had set, the assassin stalked out, looking as though he’d been wrestling in mud. Despite the grim set of his jaw, the fury in his steel-gray eyes had cooled. Back inside the abode, a sad and disheveled drow sat amidst shredded bits of purple paper, his entire face, especially the areas around his mouth, stained with layers of stinky brown substance. He gagged and attempted again to regurgitate the substance the human had forced down his throat. He knew that the “treat” would be coming out of his other end, however he was hoping to reduce the ultimate “output”.


	4. Jarlaxle's Rhyme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rhyme about Jarlaxle, inspired by Dr. Seuss, albeit much raunchier and not PG.

Would he love a girl or boy? You can say it don't be coy.

Would he do it with a goat? Would he do it, on a boat?

Would he bang them, in a box? Would he bang a male fox?

Would he, could he, in the dark? Bang them bang them in the park?

He might like them, he should see. He might do it with a tree.

Would he, could he, in the rain? Would he, could he, in the ethereal plane?

He'll do a dragon and do a spouse. He'll likely do it with a mouse.

But you must tell me, tell me true, would he bang me, and would he bang you?


End file.
